


Into each life some rain must fall

by tigriswolf



Series: comment_fic drabbles [278]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Libraries, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, POV Female Character, POV Outsider, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 09:19:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4954867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monica notices him the first time because the way he moves reminds her of Paul, and it hurts.</p><p>[post-WS; ignores AoU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into each life some rain must fall

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Into each life some rain must fall  
> Disclaimer: Steve & Bucky aren’t mine; everyone else is; title from Longfellow  
> Warnings: references to PTSD, grief, and truly terrible things; post-WS and ignores AoU  
> Pairings: implied Steve/Bucky  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 1200  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: MCU, Steve/Bucky, outsider's pov on their relationship

Monica notices him the first time because the way he moves reminds her of Paul, and it hurts. It's been six years since he was KIA doing something stupidly heroic and she still cries, sometimes. Watching this boy, she wonders if even if her baby had made it home, would he have still been broken? Because this boy is. 

She keeps track of him as he moves through the library. It's one of the smaller branches, cozier, she thinks. The Main branch is always so loud, so busy. But over here, they mostly just get the old folks looking for their favorite book on tape. Monica likes helping them, or the college students trying to find somewhere quiet to study. 

This boy, he's looking for quiet. He finally picks a book and chooses somewhere out of Monica's sight to settle. 

Because she recognizes the way he moved, and remembers how Paul reacted to sudden, loud noises, instead of announcing the closing thirty minutes early, like usual, she gets to her feet and walks over to his chosen corner, making as much noise as she can without being obnoxious about it. 

He's looking her way and she smiles as nicely as she can while wanting to cry, because those are her baby's eyes in a stranger's face. "We'll be closin' soon," she says. "If you have a card, you can check that out." 

It's some old science fiction book, one she's never heard of before. He gives her a sharp nod and doesn't look away as she turns to leave. 

He doesn't check out the book. 

.

He does come back. Every day for three weeks, though the time of day varies. Monica assumes he was there on her day off but doesn't ask Hannah. 

He never checks out books and Monica knows it's because he doesn't have a card. He keeps himself clean and wears different clothes (though, he does seem to be cycling through the same three outfits), and she doesn't know for sure that he's homeless. But she bets he is. 

She cries every night because she can't help wondering what would've happened to Paul, if he'd made it home. She's donated to charities that help veterans, she volunteers when her health lets her, and she writes letters to every congressperson and representative that she can—and it never feels like enough. It's just not fair. 

And this boy—he's the same age Paul would be, and that makes it all so much worse. 

.

The day Captain America walks into Monica's library is a bad day. She'd had nightmares about Paul, so she spent most of the night watching baking reruns on the DVR. Her breakfast was burnt so she barely ate it. She forgot to pack a lunch, so she had to make do with the snacks she stocked in the lounge. She had to explain to old Mr. Granger that his card had expired and the man _refused_ to understand. 

And the boy had slipped in while Mr. Granger was yelling, taken one look, and fled back out the door. 

So it's not a good day, even for an actual superhero to appear in the smallest library in town. 

But he does. He's in civvies, a ballcap on his head, and his shoulders are hunched like he's trying to hide his size. Cal had held himself like that, always so embarrassed by how big he looked next to her. Paul had inherited her family's small size, but he still towered over her at nearly 6-feet. 

"Hi," Captain America says softly. He pulls a folded-up piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolds it, and offers it to her. "Have you seen him?" 

The sketch is of the boy, looking younger, healthier, and happier. The smile on his face - 

"Bucky Barnes?" she asks, dumbfounded. How has she not noticed? She glances up into Captain America's shocked face. "That boy is goddamned Bucky Barnes?" 

Captain America's face clears. "So you have seen him," he says, sounding somewhere between relieved and overjoyed. 

Whether he's Captain America or not, whether that boy is actually Bucky Barnes or not, she has to ask, "Why are you lookin' for him?" 

That boy is damaged, is the thing. He's looking less and less fragile as the days pass, as he reads his way through the entire sci-fi catalogue, and he smiles at her, now, as he goes past her desk. 

"Because I miss him," Captain America tells her, and then he's not really Captain America anymore. She looks up at him and sees another wounded boy, one who hasn't made it home yet. "I just," Steve Rogers says. "I just want to be near him. And if he sends me away, I'll go." 

Monica offers the sketch back. "He'll be in tomorrow," she says. "Get here when we open and you won't miss him." 

"Thank you," Steve Rogers says and Monica aches to hold him, the way she can't ever hold her son again, when he blinks back tears. 

.

Steve Rogers is waiting patiently outside the door when it's finally unlocked. "You can hang out in the lounge," Monica tells him. 

He does, and she tries to go about her day like there isn't one of the most famous people in the world hiding in the breakroom. 

_Bucky Barnes_ approaches the desk when he arrives, instead of slipping towards his corner. He's clean, as always, and freshly-shaven today. He still looks tired and worn, and his eyes keep flicking towards the lounge. 

"Can you ask him," Bucky Barnes murmurs, voice sounding rough, "if he's here to take me back?" 

It's Paul's voice, after nightmares. She nods and doesn't even pretend to not know what he means, getting up and hurrying towards where Steve is clearly trying not to throw himself through the door. 

"I would _never_ take him back," Steve says, angry and anguished. "I would burn it all down to keep him safe." 

Monica peers around the corner, to where Bucky Barnes is poised to flee. She has no idea how he's alive, or what he's clearly running from—except that seven months ago, something involving HYDRA happened in DC. So. 

Bucky Barnes nods, glancing down at the floor, and then lifts his head, straightens his shoulders, and slowly, like each step hurts, walks towards them. 

.

Neither Bucky Barnes nor Steve Rogers come back the next day, or the next, or the next. In fact, though some people wonder vocally and petulantly where he's gone, Captain America just disappears. 

Once, after that terrible car accident that nearly killed her, she'd woken up to Cal staring at her the way Steve Rogers looked at Bucky Barnes, waiting for Bucky to take that final step that put him in reach. 

Cal's gone, and so's Paul, and Monica's alone in the house Cal built for them, pictures on the wall of all the family she's outlived. 

She doesn't cry herself to sleep anymore, though. She's still got a good number of years left, and by god, she's going to use them. 

There are too many haunted boys out there, too many scarred girls, and she might be just one person—but sometimes, that's all anyone needs.


End file.
